


Red Ribbons and Cigarettes

by Jwink85



Category: South Park
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Burnplay, Cigarettes, Demons, Depression, Light Bondage, M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Ribbons, Sadism, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-24 07:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16635203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jwink85/pseuds/Jwink85
Summary: Kyle has become quietly numb until the boy made of shadows visits his bedroom late at night; promising pain and pleasure in equal amounts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I write when I've had too much wine. Also, I love the idea of a room strung in red ribbons, don't you? Also, Damien is my delight, my fire, truly. I can't get enough of him, and neither can Kyle, apparently, lmao.

A tall, open window with the curtains billowing in the evening breeze; a golden pink sunset setting the clouds on fire.

Kyle stood at the window and gazed out at the rooftops, at the orange-red light bleeding over the town as the sun set on another day. The snows on the summits of the mountains caught fire, and for a moment they looked just like _his_ eyes. Red eyes waiting in the dark and always watching, creating a delicious, frightened tickle in his skin. Hugging himself, Kyle waited, knowing that _he_ would come as soon as the sun disappeared completely; brought in with the tides of night. Stars would fall through the sky like snowflakes, and he'd turn to the darkness and realize he wasn't alone anymore.

But was he ever really alone anymore? He hadn't really felt that way since the first night. No, the only time he felt truly alone was right after he left, and all he had to focus on was the lingering warmth left behind on his sheets; faint blood spatters leaving a trail in the white. Clutching at his arms, Kyle relished in the ache that was always present in his flesh, almost like it was anticipation itself; watchful and waiting. The boy in black had entered in darkness, and he always left in darkness; ushered in on tides of blood.

Kyle couldn't exactly say when he'd lapsed into a quiet depression, his mind numbed and left to wander endlessly. A quiet thoughtfulness had stolen over him at some point when he wasn't paying attention, and most of the time it felt like he was struggling to even move, let alone feel. All at once, the things that used to interest him didn't anymore, and the people he once sought out didn't keep his attention. Life passed by in a blur, faces passing into a tide of confusion. Even noises seemed somehow muted but too loud at the same time. He would lie in bed at night and stare at the ceiling, old leftover glow in the dark stars casting a ghostly green light in the gloom; remnants of childhood slipping by.

Food lost its appeal and became a chore, everything tasting the same; like nothing, like sawdust. He felt like nothing most of the time, his thoughts warping and racing and sometimes standing completely still. Sometimes he didn't know where he was going, would get lost in the middle of a mundane task and have to start over from scratch. The words in his books stopped having any meaning, and he would throw them aside in frustration; fighting to muster up his imagination from years prior. No vivid images sprang to mind anymore, no daydreams, no peaceful wanderings. Everything was mired in the mundane, the everyday, the here and now, and he hated it; loathed it. Sometimes he felt wrung out from wanting to rage but not having the desire to act on it.

It was almost like his mind was a white room with a single chair, and he could see himself sitting in it; chained to it. He'd try to rip himself from its confines but he never could, until he was fighting and clawing and tearing until he was ripping his own skin apart; gore washing up and over the whiteness, sliding down the walls and puddling on the floor. The only time he could seem to fight was when he was drowning inside of his head, silent screams trapped behind his lips and never able to escape.

He just drifted, until the boy in black came; borne of shadows and sadness.

For a reason he couldn't name, perhaps it was a shift in the atmosphere, Kyle woke up in the middle of the night; startled awake and eyes traveling through his late-night room. The tall window was thrown open and the wispy curtains were blowing in the breeze, hints of night jasmine spilling over him. For a moment, he fought the sleep still caught in his eyes and he blinked away the daze, but when his vision adjusted he saw them: streams of blood-red ribbons strung across his room. They were satiny and shining from the faint moonlight fighting its way into the room, and it wasn't too long before he realized that one of them was tied around his wrist; a pretty bow shimmering crimson in perfect folds.

"What the fuck," he started to say, lifting his arm and attempting to untie the ribbon. All at once, he could feel it being yanked gently, lifting his arm almost like he was a marionette on a string. Startled, he scanned the room, not even able to muster up fear, only suspicion.

"Who's there?" He called, looking around. Annoyed, he pulled at the ribbon again, only helping it tighten.

There was a rustling in the darkest corner of his room, and then, two glowing red slits; floating and then coming closer, narrowing slightly. They pulsed like open wounds as they passed through sable shadows, and then the figure of a boy came into view; straight and lean and slightly silver from fledgling moonlight. Kyle glanced down and saw that a ribbon was clasped in a slender, elegant hand. With a flick, it pulled and he could feel himself moving in response, arm raising slightly off the bed. Even more annoyed, he jerked on the ribbon harder.

"Knock it off, asshole," he snapped. "Why the fuck are you in my room? I was trying to sleep."

"That's what brought me here," the boy replied, softly. His voice was smooth like the shadows themselves but had a sinister quality; unsettling like taps at the window in the middle of the night and you're home alone.

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked, fingers working at the ribbon and trying to tear it off.

"Your dreams, or should I say nightmares," the boy said, walking closer. He passed among the shadows and became one with them, almost disappearing between patches of weak moonlight. "I thought they were interesting, so I figured I'd come visit the person who made them."

"I'm pretty sure I have no fucking clue what you're talking about," Kyle said, plucking at the ribbon again.

"I was banking on that," the boy replied, smirking. "Kyle," he added.

"How do you know my name?"

"So, you aren't going to question the fact that I can see into your dreams but you're going to have an issue with me knowing your name?"

Kyle sighed, glancing around for a pair of scissors. Noticing some on his side table, he plucked them up and went to work cutting through the ribbons binding him to the interloper.

"I don't really care either way," he replied, snipping through the satin and watching it fall to the floor in scarlet pools. "I just want you to leave so I can go back to sleep."

"You weren't sleeping well, though. Why would you want to go back to that?"

"What's it to you?" Kyle snapped, setting the scissors aside; having liberated himself from the ribbons ensnaring him.

The boy drew closer, almost floating across the floor and coming to rest on the foot of Kyle's bed; body draped in black clothing. He rested his face in one hand, blood red eyes continuing to pulse and throb.

"Idle curiosity."

"It's better than wasting my breath on you," Kyle replied, laying back down and curling a hand in front of his face. "You shouldn't even be here."

Silence descended on the room as the interloper considered these words. After a moment, he chuckled darkly.

"You're a lot cuter when you're asleep," he commented. "I almost regret waking you up."

"My soul weeps for you," Kyle said, sarcasm dripping over his words like poisonous sugar. He paused, ruminating for a moment.

"Wait, how long have you been watching me sleep?"

The figure shrugged, a minute gesture that barely registered in the darkness.

"For awhile."

Kyle sat up again, actual fear registering in him as he clutched at his blankets.

"What are you?" He whispered, leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. Caustic light flooded the room in an instant and he covered his eyes, vague pain registering in his quickly dilated pupils. Glancing over, he saw that the boy had disappeared, and he began to tremble, somehow knowing that he couldn't be seen but he was still there; watchful and waiting. After a moment, he flickered back into focus and Kyle gasped, taken aback at his sudden presence.

"I'm many things," the boy replied, an ivory hand propping up his handsome face. "But I suppose in this instance, you can consider me a mare." He smiled winningly, his elvish characteristics on full display in the bright lamplight. He had rich dark hair and crimson eyes, an aristocratic nose and a chiseled jaw; but his very presence radiated hostility.

"A mare," Kyle repeated, pushing himself back into the softness of his pillows. "I don't understand."

"You're so wonderfully numb," the boy said, crawling forward and closer to Kyle; red eyes bewitching as they drank him in. "When's the last time you actually felt something other than hopelessness?"

Kyle could only stare at him, his eyes wide as he considered the creature practically draping himself across his body. Taking a deep breath, he sank into the pillows and allowed the entity to cover him, almost like he was a sun being eclipsed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, biting at his lip as tears collected in his eyes. How could this monster, this thing, know how he felt on the inside; practically dead and going through the motions, barely there as the days passed?

"You're so beautiful," the creature breathed, pressing cold lips against Kyle's heated clavicle. "Far too beautiful to suffer like this."

"Why are you here?!" Kyle cried out, surprised and humiliated at his body's response to clawed fingers tightening around his arms; foreign lips drifting upward and kissing along the column of his throat.

"Does it matter?" The boy sat up and passed his elegant hands down Kyle's chest, watching him with heated, bloodied eyes. "You like this, don't you?"

"No," Kyle replied, turning his flushed face away; hardly able to comprehend the revolution taking place in his blood as his skin quivered. "I don't feel anything."

"Is that so? Well, let's test that theory, shall we?" The boy snapped his fingers and trails of red ribbons burst from his hands, draping themselves across the coverlet. Deftly, he snatched one up and grabbed Kyle's arm, pushing it against the bedpost and quickly tying the satin around it.

"W-what are you doing?" Kyle cried out, watching with disbelieving eyes, entire body arrested by the surrealism pinning him down.

"Forcing you to feel something," the boy replied, grabbing up Kyle's other arm and quickly fastening it to the opposite bedpost; swirls of ribbon wrapping around a slender, pale wrist. "How does that feel?"

Feeling overwhelmed, Kyle glanced frantically at his bound arms, hardly relishing the fact that he was in the crucifixion position with a demented stranger. Panic rose in him like a toxic stream as he strained against his constraints; sweat breaking out on his forehead as his breaths came in broken puffs.

"Let me go, you psycho!" He eked out through trembling lips. "Now!"

The sadist merely smirked, watching the trapped redhead struggle.

"So, you can feel something," he commented, idly; drifting a clawed hand up Kyle's delicate thigh. "You can feel fear, can't you?"

Kyle's eyes widened at this comment, watching him with quiet, muted fear.

"Why are you doing this?" He whispered, continuing to pull at the soft, supple ribbons winding around his arms.

"To wake you up," the creature replied, pulling something from his back pocket. He held it up, waggling the package playfully.

"Cigarettes," Kyle said, cocking his head in confusion.

"What, you don't smoke?" The boy tore the pack open and shook out a cigarette. Glancing at the lamp, he frowned.

"It's too bright in here, don't you think?"

Kyle kept his eyes on the cigarette laying across the creature's palm, pupils fattening as fear and excitement woke up inside of him.

"What's your name?" He asked, gaze lingering on the cigarette instead of the creature's handsomely disarming countenance.

The boy leaned forward and snapped the light off, his clawed finger settling on Kyle's cheek for a moment.

"Damien," he breathed into the darkness that suddenly saturated the room. "You can call me Damien."

"Damien," Kyle repeated, wincing as an orange flame illuminated in the entity's fingers. After a moment, he'd lit the tip of the cigarette and it was floating in the darkened room; blue black shadows settling over everything as the moonlight was covered by a wayward cloud.

"We've ascertained that you can feel fear," Damien purred, holding the lit cigarette up and shaking it gently. "But can you feel pain?"

"What are you -"

Kyle's words were cut off when Damien swiftly brought the cigarette down, its orange tip pressed against his tender skin and hissing gently as it burned through his nerves. Gasping, he opened his mouth to scream but only tiny squeaks escaped his lips.

"I'm always amazed at how human's eyes change colors when they're in agony," Damien commented, continuing to push the cigarette against Kyle's skin; ignoring his shrieks when finally the surprise burned off and only the pain remained. "Like, right now? Your eyes are pine green. It's rather pretty, actually."

Weakly, Kyle tried to thrash his body away from the incessant burn of the cigarette, but the mare held him fast; pushing it in a little harder. Idly, he reached down and settled a cold hand against Kyle's crotch, smirking to feel the erection slowly coming to life.

"Ah, I think I know what makes you tick," he said, finally pulling the cigarette away and taking a long drag on it; blue smoke filtering into the darkened recesses of the room. "My little masochist."

Kyle practically melted into the mattress, so great was his relief at finally being separated from the cigarette's cruel fire. Panting, he dragged his eyes back toward Damien, the bloody rubies floating among the gloom.

"W-what the fuck are you talking about, you filthy prick? I don't get off on being burned!"

"Oh, I think you do," Damien purred, continuing to smoke and stroke Kyle's cock in equal turns. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"You're completely insane," Kyle gasped, hardly able to formulate a coherent thought as his body buzzed with pain from being burned; tides of pleasure coursing through him as the demon's hand worked his cock.

"Maybe so, but you're the one who becomes hard after being burned by cigarettes," Damien smirked, lighting up yet another cigarette. In an instant, he had yanked up Kyle's shirt and he was pressing its lit tip to the tender skin right above his pubis. Writhing, Kyle screamed into the night, the hiding moon finally being revealed as gossamer clouds dissipated.

"There's a good lad," Damien cooed, continuing to burn Kyle with his hand and the cigarette; confusing feelings rising up in Kyle's blood as he reached the end of his endurance. "Just admit that you like it, and you'll feel so much better."

"I-I can't," Kyle groaned, lifting his tired head from the pillow and watching as the cigarette wreaked havoc on his flesh. "This isn't right!"

"Says who?" Damien asked, frowning a little and flicking the cigarette away after smoking it down to its filter. "As long as you enjoy this, that's all that matters."

"But I don't!" Kyle screamed, wincing as Damien pushed his pajama pants down; straining desperately against the red ribbons holding him in place.

"Oh, but you do," Damien sighed, lapping his warm tongue at Kyle's erect flesh; elegant hands settling on his delicate hips and holding him in place. His breath ghosted over Kyle's cock before taking him in his mouth completely, Kyle arching dramatically against the sensation of being suckled by a stranger; darkness engulfing him as he was consumed by flames.

"S-stop!" Kyle sobbed, drool drifting over his lips as Damien began to draw him in and out, expert mouth tasting and consuming him there in the moon-tinted darkness of his bedroom. The residual pain of being burned by the cigarettes faded away as Kyle came closer and closer to his end, a delicious climax rising on the edges of his consciousness as he succumbed to Damien's capabilities.

"Yes, that's it, just relax," Damien said silkily, sucking on Kyle and helping him climb toward the stars; the pillars of creation burning in his blood red irises; sharpened claws digging into supple thighs and drawing rich blood. "Just relax, love. Forget about the nightmares and the sadness, and just focus on this...just this..."

Kyle threw his head back as the creature of night continued to taste him, the sensation of an expert tongue curling around his cock as he faded toward the beauty of giving in and letting go; his body unwinding as the pains and fears of the day receded into the night. Suddenly it didn't matter if he couldn't concentrate or make sense of his thoughts when the sun was burning across him, all that mattered was this moment, this darkness; this creature draped across him and pulling him into the blessed, comforting night.

"I want to taste you completely," Damien murmured, pressing a clawed finger into a cigarette burn suddenly as he drew Kyle into his mouth completely.

Biting back the beautiful agony, Kyle nearly dissolved as his whole body locked up and convulsed, the most beautiful orgasm he'd ever experienced ripping through him as Damien sucked on him; his finger still lingering on the burn screaming in Kyle's skin. As he came in dizzying amounts, Kyle became acutely aware of the softness of the ribbons trapping him; blood red satin stark against the moonlight flowing into the room like a milky river. When he'd finished, a soft, quiet weariness stole across Kyle's entire body, and he was practically asleep when he realized that Damien was curled around him in a lover's embrace, his dark body hugging Kyle close as he sighed contentedly.

"So perfect," he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss against Kyle's pulsing throat.

"I still don't understand," Kyle said through trembling lips, his eyes barely able to stay open as he relaxed in the red ribbons; his burns radiating through his skin in sharp waves.

"You don't need to," Damien said, his lips settling on Kyle's mouth and licking his mouth open; a warm tongue seeping inward and tasting Kyle boldly. "I'll stay with you until just before sunrise. Is that okay?"

Kyle could only nod as he sank into the pillow, his mind seeped in a blessed peace he hadn't felt in so long.

"I'll visit you like this every night, I promise," the boy murmured, pulling Kyle close and reaching up to sever the ribbons still holding him in place. "I'll help you feel like yourself again."

"Is this who I am?" Kyle asked, fading closer and closer to sleep.

"I think you know the answer to that question," Damien replied as he nipped at Kyle's bottom lip, drawing rich, red blood from the pulsing pink skin. "Now, sleep. I may not be here when you wake up, but I'll be back after the sun goes down."

Damien cuddled him close, his face nestling into Kyle's soft, fragrant curls.

"I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damien introduces Kyle to his fondness for finger painting, using a very interesting substance as paint. :D Also, he's possessive as fuck, but that's hardly surprising, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is pretty gory, so if that isn't your bag, steer clear, ok?
> 
> I intended to keep this story as a one-shot but I had too many ideas for my favorite kinky demon. In fact, I'm starting to think this'll just be a series of little stories where Damien continues to drag Kyle into his dark fantasies. Or something. I don't fucking know. At any rate, this was super fun to write bc kink is life.
> 
> PS: I hope I'm not the only one that thinks blood is reasonably sexy. xD If you do, good for you; you're awesome!

It was another late Saturday afternoon and Kyle was watching the sun descend toward the horizon with anticipation and subtle, almost imperceptible, anxiety. With every tick of the clock and minute that passed, nighttime was drawing closer, and soon the boy drenched in shadows would visit his room again.

It was with a thudding heart that Kyle glanced at Stan, who was sprawled across the bed in languid repose, his arms behind his head as he listened to music and gazed up at the ceiling; his shirt rising up slightly and exposing his flat abdomen. Kyle couldn't help but glance at it every now and again, a funny feeling jumping in his stomach to see Stan's exposed flesh, a blush breaking out across his cheeks at the rise and fall of his best friend's broad chest. Ever since Damien had wound the blood-red ribbons around Kyle's arms and tasted his arousal, he'd felt so different; almost like a fire had been ignited in his blood that burned continuously.

Kyle still felt numb and lax most of the time, of course, his apathy leaching him of almost everything, but something had awakened in his blood since the demon had visited him. He was becoming aware of strange, vague desires, and it was with a swiftly watering mouth that he approached the bed, his hand clenching into a fist at his side as he imagined sliding his hands under Stan's shirt and -

"Hey, what time is it?" Stan suddenly asked, swiping a hand across his eyes and making Kyle jump nearly a foot in the air.

Trembling slightly, though he couldn't have possibly said from what, Kyle stopped and pulled out his phone.

"Almost 7."

"The sun's going to be setting soon," Stan yawned, sitting up and stretching. This action only served to make his shirt ride up again, and Kyle's attention was immediately arrested; his eyes trailing over the faint, dark peach fuzz descending from Stan's navel.

 _This is insane,_ he thought. _Why the fuck am I even noticing this stuff? Damien has supremely fucked with my head._

"Earth to Kyle; dude, are you in there?"

Kyle snapped out of his thoughts and saw that Stan was staring at him, his sleepy blue eyes filled with vague concern. It would seem that ever since Kyle had lapsed into his depression that Stan treated him more tenderly, almost like he was an extremely fragile vase that could shatter with very little provocation.

"W-what?" Kyle asked, running a hand through his hair and wincing; shaky fingers becoming tangled in scarlet curls.

"I asked if you wanted to spend the night since it's Saturday," Stan said, watching him closely. "Are you okay?"

Kyle flushed, terribly afraid that Stan could see into his thoughts and almost wishing that he could, strangely enough. He was almost certain that Stan wouldn't exactly be appreciative or reciprocal of his licentious musings, but at the very least he wouldn't be sitting on a gigantic, awkward secret anymore. Although, when he stopped to think of it, Kyle couldn't exactly pinpoint what his feelings were. Was he falling in love with his best friend, or was Damien messing with his head to the point where he wanted to fuck anyone within spitting distance? Who the fuck could even tell?

_I'm losing my mind. I have to be._

"Dude, you seriously need to stop blanking out like this."

Kyle shook his head and came back to himself, Stan staring at him with a little frown.

"S-sorry, I guess I just have a lot on my mind," Kyle replied, going to tuck his phone back into his pocket and dropping it, his fingers still shaking like leaves. Feeling increasingly ridiculous, he leaned over to pick it up.

"What the fuck?" Stan said, standing up and taking a hold of Kyle's arm. "What the hell happened to your back, Kyle?"

Quickly, Kyle scooped up his phone and stood, tugging his shirt down to cover up the cigarette burns Stan was referencing. Jesus, how the fuck was he ever going to explain those? Was he just going to casually announce that a sadistic demon had been using him as an ashtray, and worse yet, he actually seriously got off on it? No fucking way.

"Er, they're nothing. Seriously," he said, waving his hands as sweat broke out across his brow. "Don't worry about it."

Stan continued to hold onto his arm, his eyes narrowing with angry suspicion.

"Are you fucking for real right now? How could you possibly ask me to not worry about this? You have burns all over your back, Kyle."

"I'm aware of that, Stan," Kyle snapped back, not enjoying being interrogated but touched that Stan actually cared.

Stan's expression softened a little, his posture becoming less tense.

"Kyle, if you have something you need to tell me, you can. You can talk to me about anything; you know that, right?"

Kyle rolled his eyes and tried to feign nonchalance while in his head he was imagining throwing his arms around Stan and hugging him tight. Maybe he'd be into being burned, too? Although he doubted it; Stan kind of came across as more of the dominant type.

"Let's not turn this into an after school special, okay?" Kyle said, trying to keep his tone casual. "I'm fine. I promise."

"For whatever reason I'm not really convinced," Stan replied, cocking an eyebrow. Sighing, he let go of Kyle's arm, appearing extremely reluctant to do so. "Are you going to spend the night or not?"

Kyle shook his head, his eyes straying to the window and seeing that the sun was almost completely gone now. His mouth went a little dry as anticipation flooded his insides, his skin practically aching at the prospect of Damien's return.

"I can't, Stan."

"Why, exactly?" Stan asked, voice surprisingly sharp.

"Are you mad or something?" Kyle stared at him and cocked his head a little.

Stan jammed his hands in his pockets and blushed a little, carnation pink flooding his cheekbones.

"It's just," he started and stopped, taking a deep breath. "You just haven't wanted to stay over in awhile, and we used to, I don't know, spend a lot more time together. That's all."

Kyle stared at him, a weird excitement lancing through his blood. Suddenly, the desire to french kiss his best friend became almost too much to resist. Willing himself to stay calm, he tucked a curl behind his ear.

"Are you saying you miss me, Stan?"

Huffing, Stan turned away and kicked at the carpet.

"Don't make this weird, okay? I just -" he broke off and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up adorably.

"Stan?" Kyle asked, tentatively reaching out a hand but unsure if he should touch him.

"Fine," Stan said, gruffly. "I fucking miss you, okay? You wanted me to say it so I did. Now you can totally rip on me."

Kyle smiled with pleasure, his heart pounding.

"I'm not going to rip on you, Stan," he murmured, eyes straying to the window again and seeing that the sky was deluged in deep purple; droves of stars parading across the heavens like scattered pearls.

"You've just been so sad lately and I want to help, but you won't let me," Stan continued, still unable (or unwilling) to look at Kyle as he spoke. "I just feel so useless."

"Stan, you aren't, I promise," Kyle said, reaching out again and nearly touching Stan when he felt a familiar presence; a tickle drifting up his backbone and making him shiver. Turning his head he saw the telltale blood red eyes appearing in the darkened corner of his room. Fear steeped itself in his blood when he saw them narrow slightly and all at once he was herding Stan toward the door, terrified of his nighttime visitor.

"Kyle, what are you doing? I thought -"

"You need to go now," Kyle said, frantically pulling the door open. "Please, just go."

"Dude, what's wrong? You're acting weird," Stan replied, pulling out of Kyle's grasp. "Are you scared or something?"

Kyle faked a laugh, practically feeling Damien's eyes boring into the back of his skull.

"Of course not! Quit being ridiculous!"

"Does this have anything to do with the burns on your back?" Stan asked, showing a surprising amount of shrewdness.

Kyle could feel the color draining from his face at that question but he tried to play it off.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Kyle, wait. I don't -"

"Good night, Stan," Kyle said, closing the door in his face and locking it; the clicking noise unbelievably loud in the suddenly silent room. Pressing his hand against the door, Kyle was almost too afraid to turn around and he really wasn't sure why. Damien always gave off a dangerous vibe but the atmosphere was different this time.

"Your prince charming is pretty nosy, isn't he?" Damien asked quietly, his jagged voice both unbelievably beautiful and unbearably disconcerting.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kyle replied, wincing when he felt hands descending on his shoulders.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," the demon purred next to his ear, breath warm on his neck. "You showed him our secrets, didn't you?"

"H-he saw them by accident," Kyle stammered. "I didn't tell him anything. He wouldn't understand."

"No, he wouldn't, would he? How do you think he'd react if he knew what we did together?" Damien's hands tightened on Kyle's skin a little, making him tremble with anticipation and abject fear.

"I honestly have no idea. He'd probably think I'd lost my mind."

"You know, I don't really like sharing, Kyle. You'd do well to remember that," Damien commented, a warning note bright in his voice like an exploding star.

"You've got it all wrong, though. I don't -"

Damien drifted a clawed hand up to Kyle's neck and squeezed softly, stealing his breath.

"Don't lie to me, cherub. I can't just see into your dreams, you know. I can see your thoughts. Now," he paused, his hand continuing to press against Kyle's throat. "What shall I do with you? Hmm?"

Kyle gasped when Damien's hand finally relinquished his throat, sweet air flowing into his lungs and filling him up. Slowly, the entity turned him around and pressed his back against the door, his hands coming to rest on either side of Kyle's head as he leaned forward to kiss his trembling mouth. Sinking into the kiss like he would a hot bath, Kyle sighed a little and closed his eyes; dark desires racing through his mind and making him weak. All at once, the demon nipped at his mouth, his sharp canine piercing his lip and making him yelp.

"Delicious," he said, Kyle's blood drifting over his lips as he licked it away. Passing a finger through the blood seeping from Kyle's mouth, he placed it between the boy's lips. "Taste for yourself."

Shyly, Kyle licked away his own blood from the demon's finger, the metallic flavor stealing over his tongue and suddenly making his mouth water violently. Vague arousal burned in his belly as Damien watched him closely, scarlet eyes fixated on Kyle's face. He smirked.

"Take off your shirt," he instructed, pulling Kyle closer. "I need more skin to work with, I think."

Slowly, Kyle removed his shirt and let it drop to the floor; goosebumps breaking out across his skin as the night winds flowed through his open window. The scents of cut grass and impending rainfall drenched the air. Damien studied him for a moment, his eyes almost violent, hungry monsters as they roved over Kyle's sudden nakedness. He mumbled dark words and a familiar red ribbon appeared in his hands. Continuing to smirk, he pulled it taut.

"Turn around and put your hands behind your back," he commanded.

Kyle did so, and almost shuddered when he felt his wrists being brought together and secured with the soft ribbon.

"What are you going to do?" He whispered as Damien led him to the bed and lay him against the pillows, his arms securely behind him.

"I'm going to paint, I think," Damien replied, drifting a sharpened claw down Kyle's exposed chest and abdomen. "With my favorite medium."

"What do you -" Kyle broke off as a scream ripped through his lips, Damien's finger slicing into his skin and a torrent of ripe, red blood breaking through; trickling across his abdomen. With slow-growing horror, Kyle watched as the entity dabbed a finger in the substance and smeared it across his chest.

"Shall I write prince charming's name across your skin, love?" Damien asked, laughing softly. "I'm sure he would love to see that. Don't you think?"

"I told you, it isn't like that!" Kyle gasped, arching as the demon dragged his sharp talon down below his navel and traveled dangerously close to the tender skin of his pubis; leaving a weeping wound behind.

"Mm, you can't lie to me, Kyle. I know too much about you," Damien replied, slowly and carefully spelling out Stan's name across Kyle's belly; fresh blood flowing freely against the porcelain canvas. "I can see into your head whenever I like, and do you want to know a secret?"

Kyle looked up at him with wide eyes, trembling violently when the creature leaned forward and dragged his tongue through his blood trails. Damien kissed along his captive's flesh and up to his neck, his lips stopping beside his ear.

"I know how much you like this," he whispered. "You can't wait for me to visit you at night, can you?"

Kyle moaned at the feeling of Damien's claws settling on his hips, starting violently when they ripped through the skin there and produced even more blood; a slight faintness stealing over him with every new wound created. It would seem that the demon fully intended to turn him into a work of art, gore draping itself over his aching flesh. With a flourish, Damien spelled out another word, naming each letter as it was pressed into Kyle's quivering flesh.

"M-I-N-E," he announced. Sharply, he reached up and took a hold of Kyle's chin, squeezing it slightly. "Say it, Kyle. What are you?"

"Y-yours," Kyle choked out, whimpering a little when Damien's hand brushed against his swiftly stiffening cock.

"Good," Damien purred. "Don't forget, cherub. Unless you'd like your little friend to join us?"

"No," Kyle panted, Damien's hand continuing to work his cock slowly. "I just want -"

"You just want this, don't you?" Damien asked, opening the front of his pants and drawing himself out; erect flesh laying across his palm. Smearing his hand with more of Kyle's blood, he coated his cock with it.

Kyle watched him, hardly believing the sight laid before him; eyes widening to see his own blood drenched over the demon's erection. Wordlessly, Damien took a hold of Kyle's arm and helped him to his knees, his arms still bound as the blood kept pouring in lovely, scarlet rivers; the wayward moonlight silvering it.

"Yes, that's a good boy; a very good boy," Damien sighed, leading Kyle's open mouth over his bloodstained cock; murderous eyes closing against the warmth enveloping him. He wound his long, elegant fingers through Kyle's mussed, blood-flecked curls and guided him slowly.

"Don't you taste good on my cock?" He asked, breath coming in broken gasps as Kyle started to drool; pink saliva falling from the corners of his mouth.

Kyle groaned deep in his throat as he took the demon further into his mouth, the hard cock brushing the back of his throat. Fighting against the need to gag, he closed his eyes against the sharp pains radiating through his wrecked flesh, hardly comprehending how he could be so turned on by the demon's foul predilections.

"Dear little blood slut," the entity breathed, tightening his fingers in Kyle's curls and pulling him faster now; hips pressing forward as he fucked the little redhead's mouth. "You're mine, aren't you? All mine. Forever."

Kyle tried to rear back at these words, real, true fear lancing through him as the demon's possessiveness wrapped around him in dizzying waves. Damien just laughed and fucked his face more brutally, pre-cum and blood sliding down Kyle's throat with every thrust.

"Your little boyfriend better stay the fuck away," Damien growled, shoving his cock into Kyle's mouth with growing intensity. Kyle tensed up when he felt the atmosphere shift, and he knew that the creature was getting ready to finish; salty splashes of cum mixing with the coin-flavored blood. He closed his eyes in dread and feverish anticipation.

It happened incredibly fast, and all at once Damien was dragging Kyle forward as he moaned; lyrical voice drifting through the night air and becoming lost as Kyle nearly dissolved in a red haze; the flavor of the entity's arousal filling his mouth and chasing the blood away.

"So fucking perfect," Damien sighed, pressing Kyle's sweat-tinged head against his abdomen and petting him softly; almost like he was the most precious thing in the world. Leaning down, he licked Kyle's swollen lips apart and delved his tongue inside, lapping at the boy's mouth as he held him close.

Damien murmured the dark words from before and another scarlet ribbon appeared in his hand, and as he continued to kiss Kyle he wound it around his throat, pulling it tightly until the boy's eyes widened in fear; daring to break the kiss and pull away. He looked up at the demon with pleading green eyes, unable to fight against his breath being stolen with hands still securely fastened behind his back.

The entity chuckled and loosened the ribbon, stroking a hand down Kyle's cheek and making him wince as his nail tore the fragile skin there.

"Maybe next time," he whispered, lapping at the blood flowing like pomegranate juice down Kyle's face. "What do you think?"

All Kyle could do was lean his head tiredly against Damien's shoulder, chest heaving as fatigue arrested him; blood falling down his body and pooling around his knees.

"Who are you going to dream about tonight?" Damien asked, kissing his throat; his tongue swirling over Kyle's rapid pulse. "Me or Stan?"

"Y-you," Kyle said, voice tremulous as he started to fade slightly; blackness appearing at the edges of his vision.

"Yes," Damien replied, relishing in the warmth of the trembling boy still wound in blood-red ribbons; bright moonlight making him glow.

"You will, won't you?"

 


End file.
